


Busters Rollergirls

by alicefiction



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roller Derby, Erin has no self confidence, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Burn, and holtz, but derby will change that, for a chapter, girls kicking butt, the rating might change, there are OCs because there weren't enough lady characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7742746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicefiction/pseuds/alicefiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erin looked up to see a blonde girl, some of her wild quiff evident from under her helmet, which had a picture of yellow tinted safety goggles stuck on the front. She wore short overalls over a crop top and mismatched socks from under bright green skates. Erin realised she was still kneeling awkwardly on the floor, staring, as the girl winked at her and skated over to Abby, spinning a few times as she continued to dance enthusiastically to the 80s music she was humming.</p><p>aka Erin joins roller derby. Holtzmann is more than happy to help her learn the basics. Slow burn roller derby AU, I am trash, I have no excuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tryouts

Erin looked at the time on her phone anxiously. 6.45. She was, typically, fifteen minutes early, and left with nothing to do but hover awkwardly outside this old sports hall, trying to look busy on her phone. The bag on her shoulder was heavy, skates and a terrifying amount of protective gear were certainly not light. Inside she was having a furious debate with herself, struggling with her gut instinct to call this a bad idea and head home before it was too late. Roller derby?! She’d been to watch enough games to know that this was like a cool club that she was definitely not a part of. However, she’d also been to enough games to know it was a club she desperately wanted to be a part of.

‘Hi?’ There was a woman standing a few feet away, breaking through the monologue. She hadn’t noticed her in her reverie. ‘Are you here for tryouts?’ The dark-haired girl smiled, eyes crinkling behind dark framed glasses.

‘Yeah!’ No going home now. ’Hi. I’m Erin.’

‘Abby. I’m the coach. You’re early, wanna help us set up the track?’

Erin nodded, feeling slightly sick, and followed Abby into the hall.

Five minutes later, she was laughing with Abby feeling surprisingly at home while following the other woman’s instructions, using a tape dispenser to mark out a derby-regulation track on the wooden floor. It turned out they were both scientists- Erin at a university and Abby a teacher at a high school- so they had a lot to talk about. A few other rookies – that was what Abby called them – had showed up by now, and together the task took very little time.

‘Awesome! If you want to get kitted up – no skates yet – we’re still a little early but let’s get started. Once your pads are on I want you guys to just jog around the track, okay?’ It took longer than she thought it would- the kneepads particularly were tight, and bulky.

She looked at the girl sitting next to her, a tall black woman also struggling with the pads and said ‘is it just me who’s scared how big these things are?’

‘Baby, I’m sure we’ll be glad we’ve got them soon enough. I’m Patty by the way.’

‘Erin. Are you new too?’

‘Yeah. Lookin to join the club!’ She grinned at Erin, stood up, and joined the rest of the girls running round the track.

Quickly Erin fitted her helmet, fringe poking out a little and the rest of her auburn hair in a messy ponytail, and joined the other girls. She noticed standing in the kneepads was a challenge, they seemed to be permanently bent at the knee, resulting in an odd waddle instead of a walk. Nonetheless, she fell into a jog with the rest of the girls. Abby was keeping up with them, skating of course, and shouting out instructions. After 5 minutes of jogging, jumping, and touching the floor, the latecomers had mostly turned up and Erin was starting to notice how much warmer all this heavy safety gear made her.

‘Great guys! Now put your skates on and we’ll meet in the middle.’

Shit. Erin looked at her skates, that she was so excited about when she had bought them, and swallowed hard. Other than a few laps of the store when she’d tried them, she hadn’t skated since she was a child.

‘Why, Gilbert?’ she muttered to herself, sitting awkwardly, strapping on a skate. Now this was starting to seem like a mistake.

As she struggled to her feet, left knee and right toestop on the floor, one last person walked through the hall doors. No, danced through the doors. No, she danced _and_ skated through the hall doors. She looked up to see a blonde girl, some of her wild quiff evident from under her helmet, which had a picture of yellow tinted safety goggles stuck on the front. She wore short overalls over a crop top and mismatched socks from under bright green skates. Erin realised she was still kneeling awkwardly on the floor, staring, as the girl winked at her and skated over to Abby, spinning a few times as she continued to dance enthusiastically to the 80s music she was humming.

Eventually Erin was upright, and slowly, gracelessly, made her way over to the group in the middle. A quick look round at the other girls showed her she wasn’t the only rookie who hadn’t skated before, but there were definitely some who had. Including Patty, who moved around fairly confidently.

‘Great! Welcome to the Manhattan Busters Rollergirls! This is a tryout- but just to clarify it’s a chance for **you** to try out derby and see if you like us; if you decide you want to join, we’ll take you.’ Abby was speaking, and Erin felt her tension lift a little to hear she wasn’t going to be chucked out for being terrible. ‘I’m Abby, also known as Wonton Destruction when I skate for the A team, and I’m also your coach. This is Holtz-‘

‘Holtzmann.’ The blonde girl’s voice was deeper than Erin expected, and deadpan, as if there was a permanent smirk on her face. ‘I’ll be helping Abby on your rookie sessions, and I also skate with the A team. Sigourney Cleaver, at your service.’ She did a theatrical bow on skates, wobbled a little, and righted herself by grabbing hold of Abby’s arm. The two did a complicated clapping ritual before Abby finished speaking.

‘So we’re going to start with a couple of laps, get comfy in your skates, and then we’ll move onto falls. Holtz and I will skate round and check in with anyone who’s struggling. Off you go!’

Erin made her way through the laps, slowly but began to move a little more comfortably. She increased in confidence as she realised that everyone was far too concerned with their own progress to judge hers, and felt her posture loosen a bit. It was at this moment that the blonde girl – Holtz, Holtzmann? – skated over to her, and turned around, so she was skating backwards watching Erin’s progress.

‘Come here often?’

‘What?’ Erin felt herself stiffen again. This girl made her nervous.

‘Holtzmann.’ She stuck out a hand, still skating, backwards, which Erin very awkwardly shook, nearly overbalancing.

‘Erin. Gilbert.’ She felt her face flushing, and hoped it was masked as exertion.

‘Derby stance. Look at your butt.’

‘What?’ Erin looked, not at her butt, but incredulously at Holtzmann’s face.

‘Look at it! Where is your butt?’

‘At the top of my legs? I don’t-‘

‘Exactly. Now, look at my butt.’ Holtz turned, and skated a few seconds before returning. Erin’s eyes were wide- she did not need an invitation to look at that part of the skater. ‘Where was my butt?’

‘Um-‘

‘In a squat. Low, like you’re pooping at a festival. You see?’ She skated again, never once breaking eye contact with Erin. Her already diminutive frame became smaller as her butt sank, knees in a right angle. ‘Your go, Gilbert’

Erin sank lower, though she could tell her squat wasn’t nearly as impressive as Holtzmann’s. She was surprised to note her feet suddenly had a wider range of movement. She looked up to thank Holtz, who had already skated away.

Five minutes later the blonde skated past once more. ‘Good butt, Gilbert.’

 

* * *

 

 

An hour into practice, Erin was skating with something resembling confidence, and they were practicing falling.

‘Remember ladies, all your padding – artificial at least-‘ here Holtzmann punctuated her speech with a wink Erin couldn’t help feeling was directed at her ‘is at the front.’ She slapped her wristguard to her elbow and knee to demonstrate. ‘Make sure you fall forward, that’s what it’s there for. And don’t forget your derby stance. Go!’

Falling straight forward went against every instinct Erin had accumulated for the past thirty clumsy years of her life. She tried to lower her left knee, as demonstrated, at which point the safe-Erin that she’d been successfully squashing for the past hour decided to let her effect be known. She leaned forward slightly, panicked, flailed backward, and fell ungainly, hitting her tailbone and hearing her wristguard crash on the floor.

‘Ow!’ It didn’t actually hurt too much, but it was a shock. She shuffled out the way of the other girls, off the track. She didn’t want to trip anyone else up, noticing she was not the only person struggling with this disregard for common sense.

‘You okay baby?’ Patty had skated up to her.

‘Yeah. I guess this is why we should fall forward.’

‘Right?! This is intense, I thought this would be like a book club or something!’

‘Roller derby?’

‘Yeah, I know. You need help getting up?’

She did, but Erin didn’t want to admit it. ‘No, I’m just getting my breath back. See you out there.’

Patty grinned and skated off, falling perfectly onto her right knee.

‘Shit.’ Erin looked about, unsure how to get back on her feet. ‘Shit shit shit!’

‘Language, Gilbert.’ Holtzmann was standing over her. One of her the straps to her overalls had come undone in the exertion, and Erin could see a small triangle of exposed stomach. She swallowed, and looked up at her face. That wasn’t any less intimidating; all smirk, dimples and unwavering eye contact. Luckily, before she had to say anything, Holtzmann reached a hand down, and helped Erin to her feet. They skated in companiable silence for a minute, Erin not attempting to fall again, and Holtz not pressuring her to. ‘How are you getting on?’

Erin was exhausted; this was much harder work than she’d anticipated, so her sentence was as short as possible, between deep breaths.

‘Fine. This is- hard- work.’

‘The best things are in my experience. But fun?’ Holtz raised an eyebrow.

‘Fun.’ Erin smiled, and Holtz beamed back at her.

‘You’ll be back next week?’

‘Definitely.’


	2. Practice and ice cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin's self-doubt gets cracked, a little. There's ice cream and hand holding.

Two weeks later, Erin felt she might be getting the hang of this. Skating was beginning to take over her life, as Abby had warned her it might, and the squats she’d squeeze into any opportunity were beginning to pay off, as her derby stance was approaching festival-toilet standards.

‘We’ll be trying out jumps and leaps at the end of this session,’ Abby began, and Erin felt an incredulous look take residence on her face. Which means first you need to get comfortable skating on one leg. For the next five minutes, try to pick up some speed, so you can spend longer on each foot, without putting the other down.’

They set off, but try as she might, Erin couldn’t keep her foot up for longer than a couple of seconds, before it nervously came back on the ground once more. She valued her stability. Patty was the other side of the track, and Erin noticed she was confidently covering nearly half the track on one foot. The two had quickly become friends as they learned they both worked at Columbia University- Erin in Physics, Patty History.

‘You can do this baby!’ yelled Patty across the group.

Becoming irritated with herself, Erin tried once more, and screamed in frustration as her foot came down again. It was at this embarrassing moment that Holtz skated past, jumped to face her, and stopped facing the newer skater. The past three sessions it had always seemed to be Holtz who helped Erin when she was struggling, somehow always at her side a split second after she needed support. Surely, thought Erin, this was a coincidence. Clearly Holtzmann happened to be closest every time she needed help.

‘Hey Gilbert,’

‘Hello. Holtzmann,’ somehow Erin lost any ability to put together a sentence when speaking to Holtz, and her ineptitude at skating made it worse.

‘What’s not working for ya?’

‘I just,’ Erin sighed, ‘I think my balance isn’t good enough for this. I’m-‘

‘Don’t think.’

‘What?’

‘Erin. You need to stop thinking so much. Do you believe you can do this?’

Erin stared, mostly startled that Holtzmann had actually used her first name. Now she was feeling guilty she didn’t know Holtz’s. ‘No.’

‘Then you won’t. Hold onto my hands.’

‘Your?’

‘Yes, my hands, I don’t have cooties. This way you don’t need to think about balance, trust me.’

The two women faced each other, and Erin’s clammy hands met Holtz’, their wristguards clicking together. Erin felt both calluses and soft skin, a juxtaposition, but exactly what she’d expected from the contradictory woman in front of her. She began to skate forward as Holtzmann skated backward, eyes meeting. This was the closest she’d been to the blonde woman, closer than the numerous times she’d been helped up from a fall, and her pulse began to quicken. She hoped Holtz wouldn’t feel it in her fingertips.

‘Now, try again.’

Erin had nearly forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.

Holtz’s left leg came off the floor, as she continued skating backwards. ‘Come on, I cannot do this by myself, I’m highly unstable.’ She nodded reassuringly at Erin. Erin took a deep breath and…

Suddenly this balance thing seemed much less difficult. Holtz had definitely succeeded in stopping her thinking, all she could focus on was the feeling of the other woman’s hands in hers, the tight grip of her fingers, and the closeness of her face.

‘See how much easier it is when you’re not staring at your feet?’ Erin hadn’t even thought of looking at the floor. She nodded. ‘Okay, try again Gilbert,’ a grin on her face.

Erin squeezed Holtz’s fingers a little, in thanks. She wasn’t great with her words at the best of times, not least when fear and adrenaline, nerves and exertion were battling within her. She gave a small smile and hoped the sentiment was conveyed.

‘Now,’ Holtz interrupted Erin’s thoughts, ‘let go.’ Erin gave a small whine, more at the loss of contact than the loss of stability, and Holtz smirked at her. Was that a chuckle? However she kept moving, foot off the floor for the entirety of the straight edge of the track. She stared at the other woman instead of at the floor, and this seemed to help. ‘See? Stop thinking, start feeling. You’re awesome Erin Gilbert, remember that.’ Holtz had a very serious look on her face, unlike the usual smirk, and somehow her voice was more deadpan than usual.

Erin nodded, slightly, despite not believing the other girl’s statement. ‘Thanks, Holtz. But you really don’t-‘ she broke off, seeing Holtzmann had already skated away.

The rest of training consisted of learning the difference between stepping, hopping and jumping, and soon the hall was filled with the crashing sounds of twenty sets of wheels hitting a wooden floor at once. Erin wondered, while unlacing her left skate at the end of the session, how the floor survived such brutal treatment.

‘So, what did I spy between you and Holtzy?’ Patty, unbeknownst to her, had been taking off her pads just behind Erin, and stage whispered the question, eyebrows raised.

‘What?!’ Erin was shocked. She looked over at the blonde coach, currently unpicking the track by skating round holding the end of the tape triumphantly. She gave Erin a salute with the tape-holding hand when she saw she was looking. ‘Nothing, she was helping my balance.’

‘Looked to me she was helping with more than that.’

‘You’re crazy, Patty.’

‘What? She’s cute, it’s great!’

‘Yeah she’s cute,’ Erin thought this was an understatement but didn’t labour the point, ‘and I’m just, me.’

‘You’re the one that’s crazy Erin.’ They continued to remove the heavy duty safety pads. Erin, as usual, left removing her helmet to last, hating the look of her hair from under it. Training was always a sweaty two hours, and whatever she did, she came out from under the headgear looking decidedly dishevelled. She was sure she smelled, any semblance of makeup she had been wearing was long gone, and she was eager to jump in a shower.

At this point, Abby walked over to Erin and the group of rookies she was sitting with- Patty and two other girls called Lisa and Katy. ‘Guys, we’re heading to The Waffle Bowl to celebrate your first jumps! Ice cream and getting to know each other, you in?’

‘Uh, yes to that!’ Patty looked gleeful, ‘we’ve used crazy energy this session, don’t wanna be getting no low blood sugar.’ Katy and Lisa looked at each other and nodded.

The four of them stared at Erin, who looked slightly like a rabbit in the headlights. ‘What, now?’

‘Well, duh,’ Abby smiled kindly, ‘when else?’

‘But-‘ Erin felt gross, her hair was sweaty and she looked terrible. This didn’t seem to be bothering anyone else. Usually she wouldn’t be seen in public without a tweed skirt-suit (skirt cut to a modest length, of course) and shirt, or at least without running a brush through her hair. Wearing leggings, no makeup and a T shirt to training was one thing, but to a well-lit ice cream parlour?

Patty grabbed her arm, threatening but in a friendly way. ‘Girl, you have earned yourself a sundae. You’re coming.’

The Waffle Bowl was only a few blocks away, so the ragtag group of women walked, enjoying the fresh air after the stuffy sports hall. Erin was trying to avoid further questions about Holtz, so for once walked to the front of the group away from her friend, whose hair, she noticed, unfairly still looked perfect. Unfortunately this took her to the vicinity of the very person she wanted to avoid questions about, who raised an eyebrow in her direction, a dimple betraying the smirk on her face. The quiff that usually just poked from under her helmet was on full display. Erin imagined a lot of hairspray went into its creation, seeing how it had survived being squashed for two hours.

The ice cream parlour was bright and loud. There was a jukebox, currently playing Motown, but Erin spied an eclectic mix on offer, and tubes of coloured fluorescent light splayed out around pink booths. The group of them, all twenty or so, found several tables in a corner, and Erin somehow found herself in a booth with Abby, Patty, and Holtz. Patty stared at her meaningfully over the menus, and she kicked her under the table.

Staring at the menu, Erin bit her lip. Ice cream was a think she generally avoided – she was a person worried more than she cared to admit about things like calories and how likely she was to get food on her face (very likely). The menu was decadent to say the least- milkshakes topped with brownie, ice cream sundaes with mini donuts and white chocolate. She tried to find something she could eat neatly. Neither Abby not Holtzmann had opened their menus; both seemed to have been here enough to know what they wanted, and were instead engaged in a serious discussion about the new team jerseys across the table.

‘Damn! Let’s come back here next week; I want everything.’ Patty was apparently not having the same issues as Erin about the menu.

Their ice cream came quickly after ordering it, and when seeing her small cup compared to Patty’s peanut butter concoction, Abby’s cookie bowl and Holtzman’s chocolate sundae, Erin felt a little sad.

‘Thrilling dessert you’ve got there, Gilbert.’

‘I – wasn’t hungry.’ Holtzmann did not look convinced, but didn’t press the issue, apparently knowing when to give Erin her space. Erin looked wildly at Patty to save her, but Patty was engaged in a discussion with Abby about teaching- Patty taught undergraduate history at Columbia, and Abby science at a high school. Trying and failing to be engrossed by her bland ice cream she turned back to Holtzmann, who was staring unblinkingly at her, as if she was trying to work her out.

‘Jillian Holtzmann, radio times.’ Holtz leant forward, adopting the intonation of a reporter. ‘What have you been doing your entire life?’

Filing away Jillian’s first name into her memory, Erin cracked a small smile. ‘My whole life? Not a huge amount to tell I’m afraid.’

‘In a whole life?’ here Holtz made an angry claxon sound, like a gameshow sound effect, ‘wrong answer, try again.’

‘I’m a physicist at Columbia University. Honestly that’s pretty much it. Science has been my life; I joined roller derby in an attempt to have more of one, meet some more people.’

‘What’s wrong with the people you knew already?’

‘Academia can be… tough. And misogynistic. And I’ve always been a bit of an outcast, since school.’ Erin gripped her spoon a little harder, moving it angrily around the slowly melting ice cream. Holtz seemed to know, again, better than to question further. ‘What about you, anyway? What have you been doing your entire life?’ Erin’s imitation of Holtz’s tone was a poor one, but made the other woman’s eyes crinkle into a laugh anyway.

‘I’ve been skating with the busters for about 5 years. Love it. Otherwise I’m a _genius_ medical engineer.’ Her tone wasn’t arrogant, but confident. Erin was in awe of a person this sure of herself.

‘Medical engineering? What’s that?’

‘I make artificial bones for transplant, machines for use in hospitals. I’m working on an artificial heart for transplant at the moment actually.’

‘That’s so cool! You must have helped a lot of people.’ Holtz shrugged, but the tiniest blush crept into her cheeks, and a smile brought out her dimples.

‘For god’s sake Gilbert, that sad excuse for an ice cream is making me want to kill myself.’ She changed the subject quickly. ‘Here.’ A spoon loaded with ice cream and a chunk of a brownie was suddenly hovering an inch in front of Erin’s face.

‘I can’t eat your dessert!’

‘No, you can’t. It’s just, this spoon of it is _actually_ yours. I checked.’ She made the spoon dance around for emphasis. Erin laughed at the movement. After jumping around on rollerskates all evening, and talking to the most intimidating woman alive, a spoonful of ice cream should not be this scary. And, she decided to herself, it wasn’t. She could be brave. She nodded, and went to take the spoon from Holtz. The engineer shook her head, holding the spoon still and meeting eyes defiantly with Erin. This time it was Erin’s turn to blush as she meekly ate the ice cream from Holtz’ spoon. It tasted amazing, far outstripping her sad scoop of vanilla, left to melt ignored on the table. Holtzmann being Holtzmann, however, the mouthful was overenthusiastically large, and Erin felt possibly the least dignified she had ever been, smear of chocolate on her cheek, sweaty clothes, and messy hair. The smile slipped from her face, and she frantically grabbed at a napkin.

‘Erin.’ Holtz’s hand found hers, for the second time that day, pausing her movements mid panic. ‘You need to relax. Think less.’ It was an echo of the earlier skating advice. Erin slowed, and wiped the smudge from her face, more gently than she’d set out to. At this moment, the song on the jukebox changed, and Erin couldn’t help but smile as Holtzmann’s shoulders moved to the opening beats, serious expression on her face, turning to the music. She picked up the spoon with a flourish (licking the chocolate off lasciviously) and mimed singing into a microphone.

‘When it feels like, the world is on your shoulders, and all of the madness, has got you going crazy.’ Here Holtzmann used the spoon and her other hand to draw spirals on either side of her head. ‘It’s time to get out, step out into the street.’ At this point Holtzmann was out of her chair and turning, arms outstretched, as if The Waffle Bowl was her personal dancefloor. ‘Where all of the action, is right there at your feet.’

The rest of the group had at this point noticed Holtzmann’s one woman dance party; some were singing, some clapping. Holtz winked at Erin and whispered, repeating her earlier comment, ‘don’t think.’ Erin found her hands being held by the other woman for the third time that day, and was on her feet, attempting to shrug off her self-consciousness. She laughed as the chorus started, momentarily forgetting her need for a shower and concentrating on the present moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ankle's still sprained, and apparently when I can't skate I write! This wasn't supposed to be so much fluff, I'm sorry, it just happened.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the nice comments and kudos, like I said last chapter it's been forever since I actually wrote something for people to read, so any feedback is really appreciated. Let me know if I've accidentally used any britishisms! check out my tumblr if you like alicefiction.tumblr.com


	3. Learning the rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin learns the rules of derby and watches a game. Holtzmann is a genius jammer, and that's very attractive.

‘Skates off everyone!’ Abby’s voice rang out across the crowded hall. The rookies looked confused; there was still half an hour of practice left?

It was always an odd feeling to put feet solidly on the floor again, Erin thought, nice to have some stability back but disappointing to lose that sense of speed and freedom. She gathered with the rest of the group around Abby and Holtzmann in the centre of the hall, still wearing full safety kit but only socks on her feet.

‘Ladies!’ Holtz was speaking now, a slightly manic and gleeful look on her face. ‘Welcome to the time honoured rookie tradition,’ she paused for effect, ‘of sock derby.’

Abby chipped in and explained, ‘we’ll play as much of a game as we have time for, in our socks. This way you guys can learn the rules and get used to the feel of a real game without the stress of being on your skates. Also, our main team is playing the City Harlots this weekend, I really recommend you watch. You’ll get to see some real derby, but it’s also great fun!’

Abby and Holtz split the rookies up, depending on if they were wearing a dark or a light shirt that day, and took one team each. Erin, in black, was in the same team as Holtz, who was wearing her khaki crop again.

‘So I’m usually a jammer, but as this is your game I’ll let one of you guys wear the star. Erin, care to do the honour?’ Holtz threw Erin the bestarred helmet covering that indicated the jammer of each team. The jammer, Erin knew, was the skater who scored points, skating past the blockers of the other team. She nodded. This was only for fun, she knew, but was struck with the pressure of the position, particularly knowing Holtz would be watching. She made eye contact with the blonde skater, those ridiculous yellow goggles still painted on the front of her helmet.

‘I can do it’

‘Knew you could Gilbert. So, everyone else, we’re the blockers. We need four on the track. It’s our job to stop the white team’s jammer getting through, and help Erin. There are more rules, but these are the interesting ones. Got it?’

The blockers were on the track, bracing against each other, and she and the white team’s jammer- Katie- were positioned several feet behind them. Erin took a deep breath, and then someone blew the whistle, calling a start to the jam. She ran, reaching the pack of blockers a tiny bit before Katie, and found herself against a solid wall of women. She had not expected four people to be so hard to get past. She ran left, so did they. She ran right, Abby’s arm blocked her passage. Twice she was nearly pushed off the track. Panicked, she looked to see Katie, meeting equal resistance from her team’s blockers. At least she wasn’t the only one struggling to get through the pack.

But then, Katie sidestepped a blocker’s outstretched arm, was out of the pack and running around the track. Erin knew this meant the other girl had lead jammer status, and was close to scoring points. She fought harder against the pack, pushing her hip into Abby to create a space for herself. She started running, just when she heard the whistle. Katie had scored her four points and called off the jam before Erin could catch up.

Erin groaned, frustrated and mad at herself.

‘Gilbert, look at me.’ It was Holtzmann, her usual smirk replaced with something Erin couldn’t read. ‘Breaking through the pack is tough. You want someone else to jam this time?’

‘No! I want to try again?’

‘Excellent. Remember, you got through that pack when you were ruthless. Don’t be afraid to throw a hit, **babe** ruthless.’ She winked, and Erin giggled, whether at the bad pun or the word ‘babe’ she wasn’t sure. She got into position and fixed her vision on the blockers of the other team, searching for structural weakness. The whistle blew and she ran at them, hard. Abby and Patty were holding hands, standing low, an effective barrier. She threw her hip to the side and the two broke apart. Running quickly, before they could realise what happened, Erin was free of the pack. This time, she was the lead jammer, but she saw the other team’s only slightly behind her. Racing round the track she hit the pack again. This time they seemed more prepared for her, and she braced against a hit. Her arms were outstretched as she ran- like a video game character against a solid wall- trying to create a path. She’d get a point for each of the women she could skate past.

Suddenly she felt a solid body press into hers. Holtzmann was helping, she pushed Abby out of the way and grabbed Erin’s arm pulling her through as she ploughed into Patty and ran forward to collect her four points. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other jammer approaching the pack and tapped her hips which would call off the jam.

As practice ended nobody could remember the score, but everyone could remember how they’d felt while playing. Erin looked around, feeling the camaraderie, and felt like she’d found a family.

‘Remember, guys, see how the main team measure up to you guys in your socks- we’re playing a bout tomorrow- 3pm, right here. There’ll be a bar, both Holtz and I will be playing, bring your biggest cheering voices. There’s usually a party afterwards.’

* * *

 

Midday the next day and Erin was in her apartment, staring critically at her reflection. This was the first time she’d be seeing – everyone – wearing regular clothes, makeup, not being a sweaty mess after practice. Giving the tweed a break, for once, Erin had on jeans and a top, lower cut than she would usually wear, in a shade of blue Patty had assured her matched her eyes when they had a quick shopping trip in a lunch break that week. She was even wearing flats instead of her usual work kitten heels. She knew watching a derby game wasn’t exactly a dressy occasion, but she still wanted to look good. She wanted to look good for perfectly normal reasons, she assured herself, standing on the subway.

Early as usual, Erin grabbed a seat right at the front. She knew most of the team was here already, probably getting ready in the changing room. She surveyed the audience so far, mostly women, though spanning a range of ages, body types and aesthetics, with perhaps markedly more tattoos, piercings and hairdye than a random sampling of New York. Erin remembered the last time she’d been to a derby game, a couple of years ago, it had felt like a club she wasn’t cool enough to join. She wasn’t too sure what made her think it would be any different today.

However, ten minutes later, Patty strolled through the doors, head and shoulders taller than most people, gold earrings dangling. ‘Hey girl!’

‘Hi!’ Erin tried not to let her relief at having company show too much on her face. ‘I got us seats at the front.’

‘You got us the suicide seats! Let’s hope they don’t fall into us? Or hope they do…?’ Erin glared at her. ‘Kidding! I’m getting a beer, want one?’

‘Please.’

The game started not long after, and Erin found herself watching with a different sort of intensity to the games she’d watched before. Suddenly she was understanding the plays being made, the tactics, and picking up tips for herself.

‘Damn, Holtzy wasn’t lyin' about being a great jammer. Go Holtzy!’

Erin looked to where Patty was pointing, to see Holtzmann effortlessly feint her way past two blockers, running on her toestops to sidestep another, and race her way around the track, making one of the quickest laps Erin had seen. Her eyes showed laser focus, though Erin couldn’t help drift her gaze to legs which showed their strength, toned thigh muscles working in derby stance, skin visible between long socks – mismatched as always – and shorts.

‘Girl,’ she looked guiltily at Patty who was raising an eyebrow at her. ‘You got it bad.’

‘No!’ Erin quickly replied. ‘I’m just … picking up on her technique.’

‘That’s not the only thing you wanna pick up.’

As the game progressed Erin saw how the Busters worked as a seamless team, anticipating their moves and working together. The City Harlots were giving them a run for their money though, and for the whole first half neither team stayed in leading position for long.

 Too soon, the clock had run out for the first half, and the Busters were up 104-99. Patty and Erin stood, clapping, whooping and cheering with the rest of the rookies and supporters as the team skated over to them, grinning and screaming, holding out arms for hugs, water bottles, beer. Erin tried not to blush when she found herself face to face with Holtz. Literally face to face she noticed, the usual few inches of height difference compensated for by the other woman’s skates.

‘Aaaaany chance,’ Holtz drawled, her trademark smirk on her face, ‘I can steal some beer?’

‘Of course.’

‘Thanks.’ She took the bottle, had an undignified swig, and wiped her mouth with her wristguard. ‘Nice top, Gilbert.’ Erin couldn’t help but notice Holtz’s eyes were focused a few inches lower than they usually were. With a jolt Holtz made eye contact again, winked, and skated to join the team. They seemed to be talking tactics.

Erin grabbed herself, Patty and some of the other girls beers from the makeshift bar before the second half commenced. She wasn’t usually one for drinking before 6pm, but there was something about being surrounded by her team, girls she knew had her back, that made her feel comfortable to let her guard down a bit.

The half time tactics talk had clearly worked- as had the half of Erin’s beer Holtz had polished off- and the Busters were improving their lead jam by jam. At times Holtz sat out and let someone else wear the star while she got her breath back, but Erin found herself watching the blonde skater for most of the game.

Just over a minute left on the clock, the Busters were ten points up, and Holtz was positioning herself for what would probably be the final jam, next to a City Harlot brunette with ‘Jenny Rotten’ printed on the back of her vest and a star on her helmet. The jam began, and thanks to some clever cooperation with Abby, who pushed aside a Harlot blocker and cleared Holtz a path, Holtz was almost immediately clear of the pack and took lead jammer status. She sped around the track to approach the pack again, leaving Jenn still fighting to get through. Neatly sidestepping her own blockers, taking a hit from a Harlot blocker, Holtz manouvered and passed the players to collect one, two, three, and four points. She tapped her hips, signalling the jam (and so the game) was over, before straightening and jumping into the air, arms outstretched.

‘So Busters Rollergirls win by 203 points to 185!’ the announcer was shouting into the crowd. The front rows of the audience were now on their feet, moving to the track, hands outstretched, to catch the girls on their lap of honour. The team sped round, high fiving the crowd as they circulated, and Erin’s hand burned. ‘Both teams will be celebrating a good game at Nyx, all derby fans are welcome to join them!’

Patty turned to Erin, who was marginally distracted, smiling at Holtz’s dance of celebration behind Patty’s shoulder. ‘Girl, afterparty, you’re coming right?’

‘Ummm.’ The truth was, Erin wasn’t planning on it. And she rarely did things she didn’t plan ahead for.

‘Not a question, you’re coming.’

They waited a few minutes, letting the team take celebratory selfies and remove their kit (some opted to change into clean clothes, most simply removed their pads and accepted their sweaty fate), before heading as a mass to the bar, a few blocks away.

Erin can’t help her jaw dropping as they finish descending the steps to the bar, which she’d never been to before. Every inch of available wallpaper was covered in flowers, the ceiling a mass of barbies suspended above their heads, there’s a giant fishtank, and the chairs are shaped like garden gnomes.

After several minutes of distracted conversation, Patty clicks her fingers to get Erin’s attention.

‘Girl. You got it bad. Go and talk to her!’

‘I don’t! I just- she’s intimidating.’ Patty replied with a look. ‘I mean, you saw her today, she’s – she’s like a derby god.’ Erin cringed at the phrase, which sounded far more awkward out loud than in her head. ‘She’s in the main team, she’s awesome, of course I’m intimidated by her.’

‘Mmhmm. And you ain’t “intimidated” by the equally talented Abby because?’ Erin had no answer to this. ‘Girl, you’re staring at her butt. Again. This ain’t no gay panic thing is it?’

‘No! I mean, I’m comfortable with who I am and who I like. But that doesn’t mean I like Holtzmann!’

Perhaps hearing her name, Holtz turned from where she was dancing with her teammates – Holtz always seemed to be dancing, Erin thought – and made eye contact with Erin and Patty- the latter of whom yelled ‘Abby?! What’s that?!’ and strolled away from the pair with zero subtlety. Erin smiled apologetically.

‘Come here often?’ She cringed at herself, but was also quite proud of her shooting Holtz’s first line back at her. She wondered if Holtz would remember.

‘Yeah, actually. I used to work here. That Barbie up there in the rollerskates?’ She pointed to one of the dolls on the ceiling, near the bar. ‘They put that up there for me when I left. College bartender, of course.’

‘This place is crazy’

‘Suits us then?’ Erin wasn’t sure if Holtz meant the Busters or her and Erin when she’d said ‘us’. She laughed and nodded nonetheless. ‘What did you think of the game?’

‘Oh my gosh you were amazing!’ Erin couldn’t keep the fangirling out of her voice. And again with the confusing pronouns, she wasn’t sure if ‘you’ had meant the team or Holtz specifically.

‘Yeah, the team were playing pretty good today. And, like I said, I am a genius jammer.’

‘You weren’t kidding!’

‘I may not be humble, but I’m also not wrong. I have many skills.’ Holtz winked, and Erin blushed. She couldn’t help but wonder if Holtz simply enjoyed making her flustered. Determined to get some of her cool back, Erin struggled to get some control of the situation.  

‘Let me buy you a drink! You know, congratulations for the game…’ Erin’s attempts at cool were thrown off with an awkward friendly punch to Holtz’s remarkably firm bicep. Holtz smirked.

‘Sure.’

‘What’ll you have?’

‘Beer. I’ll come with you’

Erin felt Holtzmann follow her to the bar, and they stood underneath the Holtzmann-barbie, which she noticed was wearing overalls, an asymmetrical blonde quiff, and yellow lab goggles, as well as rollerskates. They were served far quicker than Erin expected – it was a Saturday night and the bar was busy – thanks to-

‘Holtzmann!’ an attractive Australian leaned across the bar and gave Holtz something approaching a bear hug. She was sweaty from the game, and still in her scrim tee, but he didn’t seem to care. Erin reminded herself that true friendship transcended such things.

‘Hey Kev, it’s been a while.’

‘So, did you win?’

‘Always dude! And this lovely lady is Erin, she’s buying me a drink in congratulations.’ Holtz’s voice was as campy as she could make it, as she gestured to Erin.

Kevin turned to Erin, and smiled. Erin was momentarily speechless; his face looked like something out of a magazine. She blinked a couple of times, then finally spoke.

‘Hi! Can I have a beer and a gin and tonic please?’ Holtz smirked at Erin, clearly noticing how flustered she was. The raised eyebrow just served to make her more flustered, however. Kevin may look like a Disney prince, but Holtzmann’s eyes focused on hers and smirk pointed her way was far more attractive and …

No. Erin reminded herself what she’d told Patty. Holtzmann was great at derby, and that’s why she was intimidating. Not because she was a cute girl, and totally Erin’s type, and somehow both really cool and really kind. No.

The gin- Erin’s second- was starting to go to her head a little. She and Holtz found their way to some gnome-chairs, put their drinks on a table shaped like a toadstool, and resumed their conversation.

‘So, you’re still liking derby?’

‘I am. I’m not exactly great at it or anything but –‘

‘Stop.’

‘What?’

Holtz looked uncharacteristically serious, and when she spoke it came out in a single breath. ‘Stop putting down your achievements Erin Gilbert. You’ve made incredible progress, and I see your confidence grow every week and it makes me so damn proud and-‘ She broke off, as if she’d run out of air, looking uncomfortable. ‘And Gilbert, if you don’t believe you can skate you’ll fall on that ass, and we couldn’t have that, could we?’ The wink was back, along with the classic Holtmann swagger, and Erin wondered if she’d imagined this brief moment of sincerity.

‘Thanks. Honestly, I thought derby would give me something new to do, some new people in my life. It’s been so much more already. I _nearly_ argued with my boss when he said something stupid last week.’ Erin looked so genuinely proud of herself, Holtz couldn’t help but smile.

‘Nearly?! Wow, he must be terrified.’

‘I’m serious! I could always trust in my science, no problem, numbers and theories I’m good at. But now I’m actually starting to have trust in other parts of myself. Like, as a friend, a conversationalist. My opinions seem worth articulating. I even put a cute outfit together today for the first time ever.’ She blushed as she felt Holtz admire said outfit.

‘So, feeling confident, Erin?’ Holtz’ eyes, once they’d admired Erin’s outfit, were staring straight at hers. Eye contact with Holtz was intense, like the blonde was seeing more than she let on. Erin noticed that her hand was gently touching Holtz’s upper arm, and she stared at the point of contact. So did Holtz, before turning back to Erin with a smile. Erin gulped, and stood up rapidly.

‘I gotta go!’

She moved as quickly as a person can walk without being said to be running, leaving a nearly full glass of gin and tonic, and a confused Holtzmann behind her. Once in the street she took a few deep breaths. Perhaps that confidence thing still needed a bit of work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all, THANK YOU for all your really nice comments on the past two chapters. And secondly, sorry for the wait for this! I was on holiday last week, and then I kept deleting and restarting this chapter because I wasn't happy with it, but finally am! Although I soo didn't expect it to be so long. These chapters are growing exponentially. I'm going to try to keep updating every couple of days, at least until I'm back at work in a couple of weeks.
> 
> Okay so my headcanon is that until she joined the ghostbusters Erin was - though a badass scientist - really uptight and unconfident being herself. We see that get chipped away a bit in the movie, and I like the idea that her great friends and being awesome at something help her to be herself. I guess that's what I'm trying to do here!
> 
> SORRY if there's too much derby talk here, or if it doesn't make sense! Comments are massively appreciated


	4. Tryouts (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main team needs new skaters.

It was the end of a particularly tough practice session, and Erin was sitting on the floor, helmet off, skates off, wristguards off, massaging her toes which were aching from two hours of toestop work, crossovers and transitions. She smiled at herself, remembering the time she had finally nailed her first transition (coming to a stop by turning to immediately face the opposite direction), after several tries of falling flat on her face, relishing at the ache in her muscles and definite stick of her shirt to her back as evidence of a job well done. She ran a hand through definitely damp hair before beginning to remove the rest of her kit.

‘Guys I have an important and scary announcement!’ Abby called across the crowd of rookies removing their kit and getting ready to go home. ‘You might not know, but two girls on our main team- Kirsty and Olivia- are moving back home to the West Coast. We were already one spot fewer than we should be, so our coach will be coming to rookie practice next week. It’s been great to see you guys build in confidence so I can’t wait to have some of you playing games with us.’

Erin caught Patty’s eye at this pronouncement. They knew each other well enough by now, skating and regular on-campus brunches to know the other had a competitive streak. It was this that resulted in them booking an empty hall on campus one Wednesday, neither had classes to give that afternoon, and practicing for Friday’s training.

‘How great would it be if we both made it girl?!’ Patty called across the hall.

‘Pretty great.’ Erin was trying not to think about it too much. Competitive she might be, but the pressure – which honestly usually came from herself – always ends up getting to her. They spent an hour practicing various drills, giving each other advice, before heading for a coffee at a place just outside campus.

Later, before jumping in the shower Erin stood in front of her mirror in her underwear, really looking at herself for the first time in a while. She tended to avoid this, dressing quickly in the morning, self-critical eyes averted from the full length mirror until she had a suitable covering of tweed. Today, for some reason, she really looked. Since starting derby she had stopped watching her food for the first time in, she couldn’t even remember how long. Training always left her starving, as did any bits of practice or working out she fitted into the week (she hadn’t forgotten Holtzmann’s advice about squats), and suddenly being able to push herself at derby became more important that those extra calories. Turning to the side, she realised this decision had been a good one. There was muscle definition she never used to have, tracing lines on her thighs and arms. And aside from what she looked like, she was now in a position where she knew and appreciated the things she could physically do, and that was amazing. She smiled.

* * *

The rookies sat on the floor, kitting up before practice. They could see the coach who was there to watch them, tall and dark-haired, wearing red stripes and with ‘sugar hits’ emblazoned on the back of her shirt. About half of the girls were nervous, evident in their unusual silence, the others unfazed, not minimum skills passed yet they knew they wouldn’t be making the team this time round.

‘You can do this.’ Erin spoke these words to herself. She took a minute to be aware of her surroundings, to get out of her head and be present, but she didn’t really need to. She was focused. Holtz shot her a grin as she skated past, to which Erin felt a strange rising in her stomach as she returned it. Knowing now was not the time to analyse that worrying reaction, Erin filed that away at the back of her mind and did a few circuits of the track to warm up.

‘Into the middle!’ called Abby, clearly trying to restrain her excitement. ‘This is Gertrude, or Sugar Hits, and she’s our coach on the main team. She’ll be watching you guys, but try to ignore her and just treat this like any other Friday.’

Remarkably, Erin kept her head the entire practice. She didn’t let the woman, somehow slightly scary looking, big hair and stripes and a piercing gaze, stay in her mind too much, and followed Abby’s intructions. They weren’t learning anything new, so it was quite nice to show off the moves she could already do. She struggled in pack work, weaving between the other skaters, but her speed was good and she hoped she made up for any weakness elsewhere. The two hours went ridiculously fast, and soon she was standing around Gertrude, trying to not get her hopes up, feeling just a little bit sick.

‘Okay!’ Gertrude called to the congregated skaters. Abby and Holtz were standing behind her, Abby barely restraining her excitement, and Holtz smiling, solitary dimple on her face. She winked at Erin before Gertrude continued, ‘I’ve done this as fairly as I can, comparing your pack work, speed skate, transitions and hits. After I checked my math with Abby and Holtz, as well as making sure I hadn’t missed anything. I’m really impressed by you all, but the skaters moving up to the main team are Patty, Erin and Katie. Congratulations! You’ll need to start coming to the main practice sessions on Wednesday and Sunday.’

The three girls whooped, Erin giving Patty a high five. The others weren’t too disappointed, it was clear they’d been outskated, so congratulations came from all sides. Holtz and Abby skated up to the three girls, hugging each apiece. Erin felt a little wobbly in Holtz’s hug, feeling the woman’s arms close tight around her, and she couldn’t really blame that on her skates considering her recent achievement. She filed this data away in the same part of her brain she’d stored the strange feeling in her stomach earlier.

‘Awesome job!’ Abby was basically jumping with excitement. ‘You get to train with us now, we won’t be bossing you around anymore!’

‘Speak for yourself’ Holtz raised a single eyebrow in Erin’s direction.

‘Holtz! You guys know not to listen to her by now right? Anyway, waffle cone, let’s celebrate?’ There were general murmurs of assent, Holtz finger gunned in Abby’s direction, and the smaller group made their way to the ice cream parlour of all those weeks ago.

‘Chocolate oreo sundae please’ Erin smiled at the waitress as she came over. Holtz was staring at her. ‘What?’

‘You’ve changed, Gilbert’

She smiled at Holtz, neither affirming nor denying the claim, as the other girls ordered their own desserts and talk fell comfortably to derby. Patty and Holtz entered into a discussion about wheels, and whether or not Patty should invest in an upgrade (short answer: yes), while Erin and Abby debated the finer points of pack work, and how she might be able to improve. Both women were thrilled to have made the main team.

Once their ice creams had been delivered and a the contented silence of eating fell over the table Holtz spoke up, through a mouthful of ice cream, ‘Don’t forget, you need to choose your derby names before you play your first game!’

‘I’m terrible at puns’ said Erin. She was a genius when it came to science, math, but nowhere near as smart when it came to clever wordplay.

‘I.’ interjected Holtzmann. ‘Love puns.’ Erin smiled, remembering the ‘babe ruthless’ crack from a few weeks ago. ‘We’ll find you the perfect name in no time, Gilbert, don’t worry.’

When she’d finished her sundae Erin ducked out the shop a little earlier than the others, ignoring their protests. ‘No, I really should go,’ she insisted, knowing she had a paper to finish and needed to make an early start on. ‘I’ll see you guys on Sunday for practice!’

She turned left out of the restaurant, towards the subway, unable to keep the smile from her face. She’d made it. She’d believed in herself and made it onto the team, and eaten a whole ice cream without worrying about it. She was so caught up in remembering the evening that she didn’t even hear the faster steps coming behind her, not until someone had already grabbed her by the upper arm.

A pale angry looking man, shorter than her, held fast to her upper arm as she spun around. ‘Your wallet. Now.’

‘I – what?’

A crunch, the taste of blood. The cold damp concrete under her hand. Hands roughly felt through her pockets, taking her wallet and phone. The street, already at a strange angle became fuzzier as it turned to black, footsteps dying away down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry! Apparently this is happening now. Next chapter should be up really soon, it's already half finished so you shouldn't have to wait too long. And I bet you can guess what's coming! This chapter is short, but the next should be longer...
> 
> Again, thanks so much for your kind comments and kudos, I'm loving writing this so it's great some people are enjoying reading it too! This is the chapter where I'm really taking some artistic license, it takes much longer than this to pass minimum skills, and even longer to make the team. But rookie session after rookie session would make a boring story, so...
> 
> PS. if you have any suggestions of Erin and Patty's derby names, that suit their personality/interests, please leave them in the comments? I'm not that great with puns either...


	5. Pancakes and cartoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the hospital and Holtz's apartment.

‘Erin! Erin!’ A face appeared, beautiful, concerned, taking up the entirety of Erin’s vision. The face had a yellow halo, which was unusual, she thought.

Erin blinked, agonisingly slowly, until the face suddenly made sense. It was Holtzmann, wearing a terrified expression. What Erin had thought was a halo was the customary shock of blonde hair. She reached out and tangled her fingers in it.

‘Hey! Erin, can you talk? What happened?’

‘Got. Mugged. Angry little man.’ The effort of the words made her eyes close again, hand dropping from blonde hair to soft cheek to wet sidewalk.

‘Shit!’ She felt Holtzmann slide a firm hand round Erin’s waist and drape Erin’s arm around her neck. Opening her eyes she hazily saw traffic, closing them again as the headlights were bright and her face hurt. ‘Nearest hospital? Thanks’. Holtz manoeuvred Erin into the backseat of a car – a cab, she realised – lay her head in her lap, and stroked Erin’s hair comfortingly.

The cab journey was shorter than either woman would have liked, both enjoying the closeness they shared in the back seat. As they crashed into the ER, Erin closed her eyes tightly again against the bright light, still being held up by Holtz, though her legs seemed to be working again. She heard Holtz demanding she be seen _right now_ , and felt herself led to an examination room, sitting on a bed while Holtz held onto her hand so tightly she thought it might fall off.

‘What happened?’ This was a new voice, and Erin opened her eyes to see a doctor, younger than she would expect, pretty and with long dark hair.

‘I was mugged. Then I fell. I don’t really remember.’

‘I’m going to examine your face now, okay? It might hurt, I’m sorry.’ She pressed along Erin’s cheekbone, jaw and nose on the right side. She was right, it did hurt. ‘On a scale of one to ten, where would you say your pain is?’

‘Seven? It’s hard to tell without having experienced a ten.’ Even while confused and in pain, Erin’s scientific method took over. The doctor smiled. ‘Be glad you haven’t. It’s definitely a hematoma, maybe a fracture. I’ll give you some pain meds and we’ll get you X-rayed.’ She turned to Holtz. ‘Are you family?’

‘I’m her- friend.’

‘Can you make sure she fills out these forms? I’ll check on you in a bit, you should go down to radiography in about an hour.’

The pain meds quickly sink in, and Erin smiles gently, resting her head on Holtz’s shoulder while Holtz quizzes her on insurance and medical history once it becomes obvious Erin cannot use a pen in her current state.

‘You have a comfy shoulder’

‘Thanks. Who’s you insurance?’

She told her, then continued her train of thought. ‘I mean it though. I like your shoulder.’

‘It seems like you like those painkillers too?’

‘Yeah. Li-i-ike.’ She drew out the last word. The doctor popped in to let them know they’d be going in to radiography in ten minutes. Erin smiled widely. ‘I like her face,’ she said once the doctor had gone.

‘Yeah?’ Holtz, though Erin couldn’t see, was smirking, although there was something else under the expression.

‘She has a good, friendly doctor face. I like it. Not as much as I like your face though.’

Silence. Holtz’s pen had stopped moving, suddenly very aware of the weight of Erin on her shoulder.

‘You have an excellent face.’ She reached up, as if to poke it, but missed dramatically.

‘You have a nice face too, Gilbert. Get some sleep.’

The X-ray showed remarkably no break, and only a tiny fracture, so Erin was sent home after a short statement to the cops, with strong painkillers and an instruction to take it easy. Holtz decided Erin was too out of it to get herself home, especially as her own place was closer. That, she told herself, was the only reason she made the suggestion.

‘Do you want to stay at my place? It’s closer, and I can keep an eye on you. I mean- I’ll sleep on the couch but-‘

‘Yes. Please. I don’t want to be by myself.’ She didn’t want to admit it but she was scared. So she accepted Holtz’s offer gratefully and again slept on her shoulder in the cab. She awoke to the car stopping and felt a soft weight lift off her head. Had Holtzmann been resting on her?

Holtzmann’s apartment was exactly as she’d expected it to be, which was a far cry from her own neat home on the other side of town. There was clutter everywhere, not mess per se, but Holtz had definitely missed out on the ‘minimalist’ trend. Music posters, plants, superhero figurines, and random bits of machinery took up space on every inch of wall and shelf. Books overflowed from a bookcase and spilled onto several vertical piles on the floor. Erin tried to keep her eyes open, wanting to stay up a little, but her unfocused sleepy gaze gave her away.

‘Right, Erin. Bed.’ Holtz showed her to a small, calm bedroom, double bed taking up most of the space, and fumbled through the drawers for pyjamas. ‘You can sleep in these?’ she threw her a soft X-Files T shirt and some sweatpants. Averting her eyes while Erin changed, Holtz kept talking. ‘Bathroom’s through there, I’ll just be on the couch if you need me, what else?’ She didn’t notice Erin had stood, moved to just behind her, until she was tapping Holtz on the shoulder.

‘Thanks. For this, tonight. I don’t know how I’d have managed without-‘

‘You would have. You’re tough, Erin.’ As if too much serious talk was bad for her, Holtz made finger guns in Erin’s direction. ‘Besides, Busters Rollergirls get back up. You’re one of us now, officially.’

Erin hugged her, quickly, without thinking, and let go equally quickly. She brushed her teeth with Holtz’s spare toothbrush (a spark of organisation she would not have expected from the other woman) and fell asleep very quickly, exhaustion and opiates ensuring her eyes remained closed for nearly twelve hours.

When she awoke, sun was streaming through the curtains, into a room and onto a bed that she did not recognise. It was only when she noticed the pain in her face and head that she remembered the events of the previous night. It was a lot to take in, and for a moment she sat there, swimming in elation, anger and shock. Once she’d made Holtz’s bed (neater than it had been when she found it), she shuffled from the room, probably looking every inch the confused cavewoman, and into the main room to see- Holtz.

It was Holtz, hair loose and longer than Erin expected, wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt- cropped and blue, with ‘one of the boys’ written across in red. There was a pair of yellow glasses (similar to those printed on her skating helmet) dangling from her right ear, and she was standing at the kitchen counter, stirring something and looking focused.

‘Hi’

‘Hey sleeping beauty. Feel like pancakes?’ Erin looked and saw the substance in the bowl she was stirring was pancake batter, and the box from a pancake kit sat next to her. ‘Alas I am nooot winning a baking show anytime soon, this is packet mix. But, who can say no to pancakes.’

‘Not me,’ Erin grinned, sitting at the table. Holtz, deciding the batter adequately mixed, hooked the other arm of her glasses onto her left ear, and quickly read through the instructions on the box.

‘Erin, sweetie,’ Holtz drawled, and though Erin took the ‘sweetie’ as a jovial turn of phrase it still made her heart leap. ‘Care to get the syrup from that cupboard?’ She indicates, and Erin does so, trying to avoid looking at the new parts of Holtz which are on show in her pyjamas- toned stomach and thighs.

Holtz left her glasses on the side as the two women ate in silence on the couch. Erin was grateful that Holtz wasn’t asking her any difficult questions, wasn’t overreacting or stressing out.

‘I can’t really remember much of what I said last night. But thanks Holtz. For everything’

‘Ain’t no thang.’ Holtzmann made finger guns at her again, but Erin just looked resolutely back.

‘Do you think they’ll find him?’

A flash of anger crossed Holtz’s face. Maybe Erin had been wrong, this seemed like a reaction. ‘I dunno Gilbert. Angry, pale, short. You described a lot of the alt-right.’ She reached for Erin’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I hope so though.’ She let go quickly, but their eyes were both focused on the other’s hand.

‘So…’ Erin was searching for a change of subject. ‘What’s with the glasses?’

‘Reading.’ It was a quick reply, but evidently didn’t answer the question fully because Holtz continued, ‘I’m dyslexic. When writing’s just black on white the words move around a bunch. So I’ve got yellow reading glasses, and my lab goggles are yellow as well. It helps the words stay still.’ She smiled.

‘I’m sorry if it’s an uncomfortable subject?’ Erin felt she maybe shouldn’t have asked.

‘Nah- not anymore. When I was a kid I thought I was stupid, because I couldn’t read the same as everyone else. But I had a great teacher – Miss Gorin – who helped me see it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Dyslexics make great architects, mechanics and engineers, didja know? We more than make up for the reading thing.’

‘I’m so glad you had someone to believe you- to believe in you. Kids need that.’ Erin’s eyes fell a little, but she smiled at Holtz genuinely.

The silence that followed should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Erin felt a little like she shouldn’t overstay her welcome, but Holtz wasn’t making any signs that she wanted her gone.

‘Is there- is there any chance I could use your shower?’ She’d felt dirty even before the attack; she really needed a shower.

‘Sure. Do you want to borrow some clothes?’

‘I really would.’

Holtz disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a very old, faded ‘Sunnydale High’ T shirt and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d fit Erin, if be a little short at the ankle. ‘Here. There’s a clean towel on the shelf in there, go nuts.’

And this is how Erin found herself, for the second time in a week, examining herself in the mirror. A bruise was starting to show itself under her eye, and her jaw looked swollen, but otherwise she was relatively unscathed. She looked, again, at her newfound muscles and wondered why she hadn’t even thought to defend herself. She could throw a hit at derby but not at a dick in the street?

As she left the bathroom, damp hair darkening patches on the maroon fabric of her T shirt, she noticed Holtz had put the TV on- Cartoon Network. She turned down the volume as Erin entered.

‘Sorry, a distraction. I can turn it off?’

‘No. I mean, do you mind if we watch cartoons for a while? I don’t want to go home yet, and a distraction sounds amazing.’

So that’s how the two women spent most of Saturday curled up on Holtz’s couch watching cartoons. Four episodes into a Steven Universe marathon Holtz reaches between the couch cushion and the arm, producing a tube of original Pringles. Erin declines the offered chip.

‘How can you say no to these salty parabolas?’ Holtz says through a mouthful of said parabolas. Erin giggles at the chip crumbs around Holtz’s face, wondering why she isn’t grossed out by this.

Several hours later, Erin decides to head home before it gets dark. She really doesn’t want to be going anywhere at night anytime soon. She thanks Holtz, for perhaps the millionth time, and when she turns to leave is interrupted.

‘Hey, wait! I want you to have this.’ Holtz hold out something small, red. Erin’s eyes widen as she takes it.

‘Wow’

‘It’s a Swiss Army Knife. No woman should walk around unarmed.’

‘But surely this is yours?’

Holtz shrugs. ‘Not anymore. Keep it.’ Erin smiles, and hugs the other woman, so hard she feels she might never let go. But she does, and hand wrapped around the knife in her pocket, Erin walks to the subway, far less scared than she thought she might be.

Holtz was surprised to see Erin at practice on Sunday. Training didn’t seem to fall under the category of ‘taking it easy’ the doctor with the nice face had advised. However, Erin was determined, and played with a fire and ruthlessness Holtz hadn’t seen before. Holtz watched her, smiling, feeling so proud to see this fearless and tough woman drop some of her armour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter where my Britishness may be really evident. Our healthcare is free (sending a silent prayer out to the NHS), so I have very little understanding of how US hospitals work wrt insurance etc. So I've done my best, but if there's a glaring error let me know?
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read this, sorry I left such a cliffhanger, but it wasn't left for too long right? You guys are awesome and I really appreciate all your comments.
> 
> As with last chapter, let me know if you can think of any great derby names for Patty and Erin. Please!


	6. Fast and dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is from Holtz' perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

Holtz felt the soft fabric of her Sunnydale T shirt, rubbing the hem between thumb and forefinger. In true Erin fashion, after she’d worn Holtz’s clothes home, they’d been returned to her at practice on Sunday, washed and ironed. Holtz smirked at the memory- Erin, still proper, though less uptight by the week, proudly presenting her the small pile. Abby and Patty’s eyebrows had nearly disappeared into their respective hairlines at that, but there was, she kept reminding herself, nothing going on.

There was so much nothing going on, decided Holtz, that it would be not-at-all weird to wear that same Sunnydale High School shirt the next day, to inhale the scent of unfamiliar (yet familiar) washing powder and appreciate that the shirt currently contained less creases than it possibly had in its entire fifteen years of life. Tapping away at her laptop, yellow glasses precariously close to the end of her nose, Holtz tried to forget auburn hair, bangs, and the irresistible smile that had been haunting her thoughts. She turned once more to the equations on her computer screen, and forced herself through some work. She fell asleep on the laptop keyboard, the smell of her shirt invading her dreams.

* * *

 

At practice on Wednesday, Erin turned up late, and distracted. Holtz noticed from the far side of the hall she was slower than usual kitting up, fumbling with pads on the wrong knees and finding the thumbholes of her wristguards.

‘Earth to Erin!’ she skated over to the brunette, putting on a silly alien voice, hoping to make her laugh.

A small smile, better than nothing. ‘Hey Holtz. Sorry, bad day.’

‘Well, you know how we let loose after a bad day?’ She giggled manically, put herself into a threatening, zombie style position, one leg raised, and grabbed Erin’s hands, pulling her to her feet. ‘You’re it!’ and she sprinted to the far end of the hall, skates crossing each other to build up speed. She looked behind her and shrieked with excitement to see the determined face of Erin, hair in pigtails either side of her helmet, newly bruised face looking oddly distinguished. She cackled, and put on a burst of speed. Ten seconds later however, she made the mistake of turning her head to look again so, distracted, slowed enough to be caught. Erin ploughed into Holtz, not expecting her to stop, and the result was a very ungainly fall.

Holtz couldn’t contain her laughter, once ascertaining neither of them were hurt, and apparently neither could Erin. ‘Thank god for kneepads, right?’ Erin got out, between cackles.

Holtz was very aware of the weight of Erin’s torso on her back, knee between her own legs. If she didn’t laugh she’d have to face up to that fact, so perhaps she chose to find this slightly more funny than it was.

Erin made a noise of exertion that sounded slightly like ‘oof’ as she pushed herself off Holtzmann, sitting on the floor next to her. ‘Sorry about that, Holtz. Maybe you’re right, need to let loose.’

‘Always happy to help with that,’ Holtz winked. She might not want to make Erin too uncomfortable, but the ease with which she could make the other woman blush was too good. Interestingly the reaction seemed different this time- still a blush, but less embarrassed? Maybe she was finally becoming immune to it. Holtz hoped not. ‘Why did you have such a crappy day anyway?’

‘Fight with my boss. He was mad about my black eye, can you believe it? All hoity and British and then started telling me I should stop training and hanging out with you girls! “Such behaviour is not becoming for a scientist at this prestigious institution” apparently.’ She put on a terrible British accent to imitate her boss. ‘Not that he minds that Dr Spengler plays football on a Sunday? He just doesn’t like unconventional women.’

Holtz looked at her in sympathy. She hadn’t got where she was without coming across some misogynistic male bosses of her own, the poster child for unconventional.

‘Sucks.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ladies, stop the chatting!’ Neither woman had noticed Sugar Hits, and jumped when their coach skated to behind them. The rest of the team joined them, in a huddle around their coach. Holtz tried hard to ignore a pointed look from Abby.

In pairs they practice hits, moving laterally to hit your opponent off the track. Abby and Holtz team up, as they always have, and Holtz uses the exercise to avoid answering any probing questions, throwing her small frame at her larger friend with enough force to escape her line of enquiry. With the roles reversed Abby is a formidable opponent, and Holtz regrets being so enthusiastic. Looking across the track she sees Erin create a perfect lateral to the centre of the track, smashing into Patty with an aggression she would not have thought possible. Holtz smiles affectionately, and is completely taken by surprise when she’s on the receiving end of a hit from Abby.

Next up is pack work, working on speed control to stay together as close as they can.

‘Although you can’t hold across like this-‘ Gertrude demonstrates, holding her arm out to the side, ‘you should still be touching one another, get closer ladies.’

Shuffling in the pack as they constrict. Holtz feels a delicate hand on the small of her back, which moves to the side of her right hip. A familiar smell of washing powder. It’s all Holtz can do to stay with the pack, her heart beating from more than just exertion. Her wheels crash into Abby’s next to her, and she apologises. Erin, behind her, seems to have taken Abby’s advice about pack work from last week, and isn’t struggling to keep her speed consistent.

Whips, however, are a different story. To practice, Holtz finds herself paired with Erin, who might finally not be brilliant at everything. The aim of a whip is to use the momentum of another player to give yourself an extra burst of speed, holding and whipping yourself around the track.

Holtz loves whips. The security of feeling your teammate grab hold of your arm, replaced by the speed and exhalation, letting that be all that propels you. Those few seconds were often Holtz’s favourite time of a game, like a rollercoaster. Holtz loves rollercoasters.

Erin does not.

‘Whaaaaaat?’ replied Holtz flatly at this revelation. She’d been asking Erin why she wasn’t propelling herself with that much force, why she’d been slowing herself down.

‘I just don’t, okay? I know they’re supposed to be fun, but there’s always this very loud voice in my head telling me that I’m not supposed to be going this fast and should really stay safe and slow.’

‘Safe’ and ‘slow’ were not two of Holtz’s favourite words, but she tried to understand. So they worked both safely, and slowly, gradually building the speed and force of Erin’s whips, watching her toes like a hawk to ensure she wasn’t slowing herself down. After fifteen minutes, she sprinted after her, definitely harder to catch up this time than before.

The grin on Erin’s face was undeniably contagious, betraying pride and determination. ‘That was awesome! Can I do it again?’

And so, after Erin’s second training session with the main team, Holtz and Erin found themselves discussing Erin’s progress. The hall had closed but both were reluctant to go their separate ways, so they loitered under the streetlamp.

‘Seriously Erin, you’re doing great.’

‘Thanks. Maybe not quite so safe and slow?’

‘Fast and dangerous, that’s what you are, Gilbert.’

‘Fast and dangerous…’ A small smile played on Erin’s face, soon replaced by grim determination, below messy hair, topping off a sweatshirt and shorts. It was beautiful, thought Holtz. And then-

The faintest touch of lips to her cheek. Erin had bent down and gently kissed her cheek, and was now looking sheepish, though no less determined, as she began to speak. ‘Do you want to hang out sometime? With me? I mean, not at derby. I mean, not that I don’t want to see you at derby. I just mean, another time. As well? Maybe dinner?’ The babbling slightly negated the effect of the determined gaze, but Holtz was still silent, shellshocked, still felt the place Erin’s lips touched as if it was burning.

Erin was starting to look disappointed, embarrassed, before Holtz’s brain caught up with her. ‘Yes! I mean, yes. I’d love to.’

Erin beamed, and gave Holtz her cell number. (‘It’s Erin with an “E”’ she clarified. ‘For… “everything you want.”’) Holtz assured Erin she’d call, and couldn’t stop beaming her whole journey home, where she relaxed back into her Sunnydale High T-shirt. Erin walked the other direction, and Holtz couldn’t see her hand in her pocket, curled around a red Swiss Army Knife like a talisman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for the wait! This chapter was just not coming, I'd been working on the same draft for like two weeks?! But then I decide to switch the perspective and wrote this in an evening. I guess when it's not working, you know.
> 
> Please comment and kudos, it makes me so happy! I ploughed through my writers block for you guys, and I'm so glad I did.
> 
> The last two weeks have been really busy, I had a job interview, got the job (!), went back to work at my old job (until Christmas, booo), a family member's cancer was officially declared in remission. So not bad, but busy! Hoping to keep a one or chapter a week schedule now life's more regular! I'm also back on skates which is the best thing ever.

**Author's Note:**

> So I sprained my ankle the other day, can't skate, and all I can think about is a ghostbusters roller derby team and how much I wish Kate McKinnon would help me off the floor when I fall in my skates, (aka how I sprained my ankle). I haven't written anything I want anyone to read in literally years, so this is kind of terrifying. Any OCs will be based on people in my league; unfortunately I couldn't think of enough secondary characters from Ghostbusters to fill out a whole derby league. 
> 
> If at any point in this stuff doesn't make sense to non-derby-girls, please let me know. It's so possible I'll forget not everyone knows the rules...


End file.
